What if Life was a Fanfic?
by krisella
Summary: Charlie and Willy Wonka make an amazing discovery in the chocolate room and realize that their life is like one open storybook. Then, suddenly, Charlie wonders, "Just THINK about what the fanfics would be like!"


_All right, so, this story... oh wait, I didn't say hi._

_Hi!!!!!_

_All right, if you are totally impatient, just so you know this story starts off pretty smooth then ends up ridiculous!!!!! Anyways, good news is I finished the story, all though the fact that it is 5400 words long...._

_Heh heh, well if you are a fan wondering why I haven't updated in so long, check my profile! _

_Enjoy!!!! _

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Disclaimer: I don't own nuttin'.... DUH. If I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time here; I'd instead be dancing around with Willy, cutting his age in half, and asking him to marry me then living happily ever after making magnumptious candy treats.

Yah, that's right, I made up the word magnumptious.

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Charlie was gently pulled from his pensive dream by a tender _tap tap tapping _resounding outside of his home. Thinking nothing of it, he turned once in his bed, feeling the soft fabric of his blanket brush against his hand as he did so. He smiled and sheepishly cracked an eye open very slightly so as not to allow what would surely feel like high light intensities from the sun invading his night-vision eyes. Surprisingly, Charlie found that he could see quite well without having to squint, and, curious, he sat up in his bed.

_Oh yeah,_ he thought to himself as the rods and cones in his eyes alternated with each other, preparing for the early dawn light, _that's right_. Charlie, up until a week ago, had lived in a hovel that occupied a small space on the curb of his busy street. He lived on the teensy half-room that made up the teensy space that was the itsy-bitsy second floor of said hovel. Directly above him lay the roof, just high enough for the eleven-year-old to stand without bumping his head. Since the house wasn't in the best condition, a few boards were missing from the roof, and Charlie used to wake just as the sun peeked its face over the horizon and beat down on his childish structure with a smile. Rare was it indeed for Charlie to awaken anytime before the sun became visible in the sky.

_Good morning starshine, the earth says hello!_ He grinned at the first memory of his new found mentor and the first words he heard him speak the moment his famous identity was revealed. Charlie was left befuddled as to the state of the man's sanity. Of course, Charlie still wasn't quite certain if he was completely sane, but he didn't care one bit. In fact, Charlie thought the man was brilliant.

So brilliant that he somehow managed to create an exact replica of Charlie's home smack dab in the middle of his own chocolate factory, in one of Charlie's favorite rooms, too. That was where, for the past week, Charlie had woken up and raced outside to meet up with the famed chocolatier to learn the ways of the factory. Quickly he found out that it was much larger than it would seem, and, though they've spent all day everyday exploring the many rooms, his mentor has yet to show him every area in the factory.

Eager to begin the day, Charlie changed out of his pajamas and tip-toed down the ladder, hoping not to wake any of the other residents. He swept the room with his eyes like a cat searching for a fly, but everyone seemed to be asleep. Gingerly, as if expecting a trap hole to appear in the floor at any given moment, he placed one toe onto the floor below. Nothing happened. Grasping the ladder firmly, he placed the entire of his foot down. Nothing. Feeling more confident, he firmly placed both feet on the ground and let go.

The three bed-rooted grandparents, as well as Grandpa Joe, the one grandparent that could get up and walk around as he found fit, were all asleep and snoring gently in the king sized bed that they all shared.

Well, maybe not _gently_, Charlie thought as Grandpa George let out a particularly loud snort. He heard his senile Grandma Georgina mutter something that sounded like, "Don't _eat_ the platypus George, we need your polka-dots. They're good for... serving... tea..." Grandma Georgina drifted back into her dream state, letting out a snore that was even louder than Grandpa George's. Stifling a giggle, Charlie briefly glanced at the silent Grandma Josephine, then turned towards the door. Maybe, if he was silent enough, he could leave the house early, and maybe, if he was lucky, he could even find his mentor and start working right away, but where to start looking? He thought for a moment, then glanced behind him.

He slowly placed one foot after the other as he inched towards the door. Excitement slithered its way through his body as Charlie neared the door. There! It was right in front of him. All he had to do was reach out and open the door, and he was free from there.

Unless... someone spotted him. Charlie turned and glanced at the remaining bed on the side of the house. There was his father, but where was his...

"Ahem."

His shoulders shooting up to his ears, Charlie turned to see his mother with her hands on her hips and her foot silently tapping on the floor. Briefly he was reminded of the tapping that had woken him up in the first place, but this was a different, more hollow sound. Unable to think of anything, Charlie stared up at his mother.

"And where, pray tell, do you think _you're_ going?" she whispered, a small smile on her lips.

"I was thinking that I might start work a little early today," he answered with full honesty. Both of them spoke in quiet voices so as not to disturb the sleeping residents.

His mother cocked her head and leaned down. "Without eating breakfast?" she asked in a playful but stern voice.

"Please mom? It would be nice to impress Mr. Wonka for once, getting up on my own."

Charlie's mother closed her eyes in thought. Silence followed. Charlie crossed his fingers.

"Well.... all right."

"Yes!" Charlie exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. He clasped his hands to his mouth as both of them whipped their heads around, but everyone continued to sleep as usual.

Turning back to face him, his mother quickly added, "This won't become a habit, will it?"

"No ma'am," Charlie politely answered back.

"Good boy. Now, off you go," she said, smiling.

"Thank you!" He called as he raced outside to the luscious green meadows awaiting him.

The chocolate room. Oh, how Charlie loved it! Everything was edible, absolutely everything! The trees, the grass, the magnificent chocolate river formed by the great chocolate waterfall.

_The waterfall is most important,_ the voice of his mentor called in his head, _it mixes the chocolate. Churns it up. Makes it light and frothy._

Charlie smiled and raced down the candy path. He could see Oompa Loompas, the beloved factory workers, gathering candy supplies from the many plants. _Tap tap tap_. Charlie ceased his running briefly to listen to the noise, but it was a slightly different sound than this morning. Ignoring it, he ran and reached the top of a giant hill. Suddenly, he gasped. Sitting there in front of him, just below the hill in the exact center of the enormous room, was a newly sprung tree. This tree, as with every item in the factory, was no ordinary tree. But neither was it ordinary in the crowd of unordinary specimens. This was, by far, _extraordinary. _The tree stretched far up into the air and, though it didn't quite touch, threatened to reach upwards with its gnarled branches and grasp the dome ceiling far above, which was starting to emit a brighter light (the light intensity changed to match the weather and time of day outside, one of Mr. Wonka's brilliant ideas.) The tree resembled one of oak in its structure, and not a spot on the tree was without a branch, but that was where the resemblance ended. The bottom of the tree was a bright cherry red, while the top was a sour green. The two colours amalgamated in the middle to create a very harmonious spectacle. But that wasn't what caught Charlie's breath.

You see, the tree was absolutely, on every surface, _shiny_. Charlie, mesmerized, examined every surface before suddenly realizing that he had been shuffling towards it and was now close enough to reach out and touch. Tentatively, he raised his hand and, ever so gently, reached out...

"Boo!"

Charlie jumped and spun around to see none other than Willy Wonka, his mentor and best friend, standing beside him and wearing his ridiculous deer-caught-in-the-headlights wide goggles. As he stood there clad in his usual plum trench coat attire with his black top hat and leaning on his cane affixed with a small silver globe designed with spirals running downwards, he vociferated,

"Wow! Did you see how high you jumped just now? That was like_ vermicious knid_ high! He-he-heh!"

Charlie grinned at the sound of his mentor's laugh. He was so childlike in everything he did, from the way he dressed to the sound of his voice. Charlie absolutely loved it.

"So? Have you seen it? What do you think? Isn't it lolliatomical?" Willy asked, practically bouncing with excitement. Charlie smiled at Willy's made up word and turned to face the tree again. The trunk was six times as wide as Charlie, if not more. Leaning closer, he also noted that every twist and turn was composed of peanut-sized octagons that linked together. He stared at his multiple reflections in the glossy red bark.

"It's fantastic," Charlie smiled.

Willy stared back at him, the warmth emanating from his face. "Isn't it though? I was just oh-so surprised this morning. I had done my daily rounds last night you know. There wasn't a sprout to see, yet suddenly this morning, poof!" Willy spread out his arms to emphasize the word. "I didn't know _what_ to think! I've never seen the likes of this in my factory before!"

"What do we do?" Charlie eagerly asked.

Willy gave him a playful look. "Why there's only one thing to do, my dear boy," he said.

"What's that?"

"_Climb it_, of course!"

Charlie's eyes widened. "You mean, we're going to-"

"Precisely!" Willy shouted, already hitching himself up on the first branch. "I'd been waiting for a couple of _hours_, you see, for you to wake up." He scowled. "It was utterly one hundred and ten percent _boring_, my friend."

Charlie looked up with wide eyes as he placed his hand on a branch, discovering that the bark was tough, but not slippery. "You... you waited for me?" It wasn't that he thought of Willy as rude, but he's lived cast off from civilization for years. It seemed unlike him to actually wait for someone if he wanted something to be done.

"I don't know what came over me either, Charlie. For some reason I felt that it would only be half as fun without you, as if I'd be spoiling a surprise. Why, I had half a mind to waltz right in your house and drag you over here, but your...," he scowled again, "_mother_ wouldn't allow it. She gave me that look." Willy frowned and raised his eyebrows while tilting his head slightly in a humorous yet accurate imitation of Charlie's mother.

"She's only looking after me," Charlie said, surprised that she had been awake that early.

"Oh, it's nothing personal against her, you know, it's just the whole parenting thing in general. It's _annoying_. I don't know how you put up with it. She's told me off quite a few times, actually," Willy then looked down and smiled, "but at least she isn't a meany-pants. She's generally nice about things. Now!" he clapped his hands together, balancing on a thick branch. "Are you just going to stand there or what?"

Charlie grinned. "Let's go." He pulled himself up and, gradually, they made their way higher and higher in the tree. It was as if the branches were made to be climbed, each one placed perfectly to escalate in the tree. Charlie had to stop and wipe his brow when they reached the center as he examined the change from red to green. They continued in silence until, suddenly, Willy held out a hand and smiled.

"I think this is enough," he said, placing his bottom firmly down on a branch. Charlie looked down and was shocked to see how high they were. The Oompa Loompas, though already minuscule, looked like _ants_. Charlie looked up to see the ceiling not so far from his reach. Suddenly he felt dizzy, and was relieved when a firm hand grasped his wrist.

"Watch it there, kiddo. I can't have you dying on me." Charlie felt Willy pull him up and scoot over so that Charlie would be sitting next to the trunk. Feeling safer sitting down, Charlie looked around.

"It's beautiful," Charlie said.

"What?" Willy asked, looking at him, "Oh yeah, it's very beautiful."

Charlie suddenly felt a flash of déjà vu.

_Snap!_

Charlie looked to see that Willy had snapped of a twig and was taking a bite out of it. He laughed.

"Oh my dear boy! Oh my deary dear boy! Oh my oh my oh my oh my oh-"

"What is it?" Charlie asked, not impatient, but eager.

Willy laughed. "Why, this isn't a tree at all! It's silly! Very silly! He-he-he-he-he-"

"Not a tree?"

"No! It's a rock! It's one giant tree-shaped _rock_! Rock candy, granny-smith and cherry!"

Charlie laughed with him, none of them quite sure what was so funny, but both feeling very giddy with joy. As their chortles calmed to tiny chuckles, Charlie noted, "Our life is an open storybook, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Willy said, "Storybook."

Charlie grinned for the umpteenth time that morning. "But what if it _was_ a storybook? What then?"

Willy frowned. "Then everyone would know my candy making secrets and I'd be completely ruined, that's what."

Charlie ignored him. "I think it'd be a wonderful story."

Willy sat in silence. Then he snapped off a few twigs and handed them to Charlie. "Here, you look starved to death." Another wave of déjà vu hit Charlie.

"Thanks. I... uhh... didn't eat breakfast."

Suddenly, Willy grinned. "Really? You wanted to see me that badly? I _knew_ it was a good idea to wake you!"

"Wake me?" Charlie asked. Willy frowned again.

"Well, I knew that mother of yours wouldn't allow me to just drag you out of bed, so know what I did? Do ya? Huh?" Without waiting for an answer Willy continued, "I woke you up, see! Tapped on your window, then listened really close. Tap tap tap! I was a little worried at first that you hadn't woken up, but I couldn't risk repeating my action. She would have gotten suspicious, see, but you did it! All I had to do was wait for you to come out, and... oh no..." suddenly Willy frowned.

"What?" Charlie asked.

Biting his lip, Willy looked over at Charlie with a disappointed look in his eyes. "I lost the game."

"What game?" Charlie asked.

"It's this game I learned from the Oompa Loompas... the point of the game is to forget the game, and if you think of the game..." he glanced at Charlie and, in a whiny voice pouted, "you looooooose..."

Charlie laughed. "Does this mean I've just lost, too?"

Willy thought about it, then smiled. "Why, yes it does!"

Charlie smiled. Losing isn't so bad when you've lost with your friend, after all. "So, what now?"

"We get five or thirty minutes to forget about it, depending on how you play, and if we remember after that time, we lose again. It's a fun way to mess with the Oompa Loompas! Of course, they had to lose before they told me about it. But once you tell someone about it, they remember the game, and they lose! He-he-heh!" (a/n, I looooooose! Sad face...)

"Well, let's talk about something else, to distract ourselves," Charlie piped up. "Let's get back to that storybook idea."

Willy frowned. "I don't see what's so great about everyone knowing your deepest darkest secrets."

"That's not the point of a story," Charlie said, "the point is to have fun, to be put smack-dab in the middle of an adventure. People do it all the time. They even write their own stories about it sometimes, if they like the idea enough." Charlie suddenly thought for a moment, then laughed. "Why, just _think_ of what the fanfics would be like!"

"Fanfics? What are those?"

Charlie laughed again. "Fanfics is short for fanfiction. It's just as I've said, a person takes an idea from a story and writes their own adventures inside the story. Or, well, scratch that, that's not entirely true." Charlie closed his eyes to think, pressing his thumb against his brow in concentration. "It's like... it's... stories about characters... or settings... written by fans of the original work, rather than by the original creator."

Willy tilted his head. "Oh really?"

"Ya," Charlie said. "I used to have a friend in school who wrote them all the time. He was my best friend..."

"Oh," Willy said, his voice cracking slightly, "I see."

Charlie suddenly turned to face him. "He was nothing like you are though. He was only my best friend because, well, he was really my only friend. I never really shared anything really personal with him or anything," Charlie leaned back, not sure if he had convinced Mr. Wonka. "He's gone now, anyway. He moved away a year ago."

"Oh," Willy Wonka said, noticeably brighter at the prospect.

"Anyway," Charlie said, "I still think the fanfictions about _our_ life would be much more interesting."

Wonka smiled. "So what do fanfics involve?"

"Well, anything you want, really. Some of them are deep and serious. Some of them are novel sized. They can be pretty creative, but for the most part they are just random."

"I _love_ random."

Charlie chortled, "True, but this is a different sort of random."

Willy Wonka looked at Charlie in a way that, had they have been on the ground and had Wonka have had his cane, made Charlie believe he would have been leaning on it. "Explain."

"Well," Charlie began, slightly embarrassed, "There are the pairings, for one."

"Pairings?"

"It's... uhh... emotional attachments."

Wonka shuddered. "Cooties. That's just gross, not random."

"It's not pairings that are random, it's who is paired up with whom."

"You need to stop paying attention in English class, it's not very healthy."

Charlie smiled.

"Sooooo, if our life _was_ a fanfic, who _would_ be paired up with who?"

Charlie's faced flushed. "You don't want to know."

Willy's eyes narrowed. "Poppycock."

"Well, uhh, see, sometimes there are made up characters, but if I were to guess the most common pairing, it'd probably be, well, you and my mum."

Willy got a horrified look on his face. "But she's your _mom_, that's just disgusting. That would mean I'd be your da-...your fath-..." Willy, though he struggled, could not bring himself to say the dreaded word.

"Well, that's not the worst pairing."

"Jumping jellybeans, there's a _worse_ one?"

"Umm, well, if I were to guess, I'd say a pretty popular pairing would be, uh, you and me."

Willy opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it once more, then held up his hand, and then withdrew it. The rubber from his latex gloves gave a _squelch!_ as he struggled to think of something to say. Finally, in a quiet and awkward voice, he said, "Nothing personal Charlie... but... you're not exactly my type."

At that Charlie burst out into laughter, hugging the tree so as to make sure he wouldn't fall down. Willy glared at Charlie through his goggles.

"I'm serious Charlie."

To which Charlie laughed even harder.

"Well," he said as the last of the chuckles finally died off, "What _is_ your type, then?"

"I-" Willy began, but then he stopped and stared off into space. "I don't know."

A silence followed. Charlie, wishing the awkward feeling would go away, said, "Let's get off this subject." He smiled, "It just makes things gross."

Willy snapped back into reality and turned to look at Charlie as though he had completely forgotten what they had been talking about in the first place, which, knowing Willy, he probably had. "Anything else interesting about them?"

"Well, a lot of them take away the personality of a character, or completely alter it, simply because the author is a horrid writer."

Suddenly an Oompa Loompa went flying through the air on what looked like a giant balloon that was releasing itself of air. Charlie leaned sideways to look at the very dangerous situation happening in the air behind Wonka, but Willy ignored it as if it was nothing unusual.

"Uh..." Charlie began, looking at Willy with a confused and uncertain look in his eyes. "Sometimes the authors will write some... quite extraordinary events... and the characters will go on as if nothing happened within a chapter... or even a sentence."

The Oompa Loompa was now yelling (in joy?) as the balloon twisted and twirled around in the air, and to Charlie's surprise another Oompa Loompa joined him as another balloon came swirling through the air. Though it seemed impossible to ignore, Mr. Wonka didn't so much as turn around to look.

"Weird," Willy said.

"Umm... ya," Charlie agreed. He blinked, then, figuring it best to not think about the situation (Mr. Wonka didn't seem too concerned about it, anyway) Charlie continued in his explanation.

"Also, there aer usuaally a lot of typoes, which are just plain annoying. Especiallly when the author cuts off in the mid

"Well that's ust silly. Havne't any of them hear d of spellcheck?" (a/n spellcheck isn't a word! ha ha ha it's really 'spell check.' At least according to Firefox.)

Charlie smiled. "A lot of them don't finish the story they start writing too. They lose interest or something. Plus, some of them add in all of these annoying author's notes." (a/n MWA HA HA HA HA)

"Ew." Willy leaned back as far as he could without falling out of the branch. "So, are there any ridiculous story plots?" (a/n, so, what's the weather like?)

"Well, no doubt if our life had fanfics written about them, there would be at least one where you get kidnapped and the Oompa Loompas and myself would have to go save you, or something. Kidnapping is a surprisingly big thing in fanfics." (a/n water water everywhere and not a drop to drink)

Willy shook in disgust. "Slugworth."(krisella shakes her head in disgust. "Author's notes.")

"Slugworth could be portrayed as a good guy in fanfics."

"What?!" Willy furiously shook his head. "That candy-making copycatting cad?"

"There's another thing," Charlie said, "A lot of fanfics give the main characters these unbelievable secrets, like with your candy making recipes; they'd probably write a story where you add humans to your ingredients."

Willy scowled, "Didn't I make it clear that cannibalism is frowned upon in most societies? My candy would never sell."

Charlie blinked. "Plus, the people..."

"What?" Willy asked.

"Never mind," Charlie scanned the branch they were sitting on. "Hey, Mr. Wonka?"

"Yes Charlie?"

"Didn't you say that this wasn't a tree?"

"Yes, unless I'm becoming delusional and am imagining things that aren't happening, in which case this entire scenario might be a figment of my imagination, so it doesn't matter anyway."

"Umm, right," Charlie said. "Well, how come some plants are growing on the end of the branch?"

Willy abruptly turned to see a walnut-sized lump of... _something_... growing before their eyes on the end of the branch.

Tentatively, Willy reached out, but stopped short as the plant kept on growing. It grew till it reached the size of a fist, then ceased its adventure. Willy clasped his gloved hand around the plant and plucked it from its resting place.

"Weird. He-he-heh. We should examine this. I think it's high time we made our departure my dear boy."

Charlie's face fell slightly, but he smiled anyway. Carefully he reached for an overhead branch and slid his foot down till it made contact with some solid material. Then, slowly, they both began to escalate.

"Is there anything else about fanfics I should know about?" Will asked as they made their way down.

"Well, there are some really annoying ones called crossovers," Charlie began, glad to continue the conversation as they crossed from the green section back down to the red half of the tree, "They are the worst. It's when an author takes a storyline or a factor from one story and crosses it with another."

"Oh really?" Willy asked, interested.

"They don't usually work very well," Charlie answered with a grim tone. They continued to climb in silence, both deep in thought, until finally Charlie felt himself reaching firm ground beneath his feet. Willy hopped down, grabbing his cane from the ground, and stared at Charlie. He motioned with his cane for them to travel in that direction.

"Oh, I forgot one other thing," Charlie said, his voice resounding in the vast chocolate room.

"Yes?" Willy asked.

"Some authors write really bad stories where they add themselves into the fanfic they are writing. Those, toppled with crossovers, are just horrible."

_Whoosh!_

Suddenly the room grew dark and an unseen wind whipped in every which way direction. Charlie and Willy's stomach tied itself in as many knots as possible.

"Run!"

It was uncertain who yelled the word in all of the terror. They both ran and hid behind the nearest gummy bear tree, the wind ripping through their ears. It resembled screeching harpies that threatened never to leave as they flew through the air and nagged in their ears. Then, without warning, the screeching stopped. If Charlie wasn't mistaking, he could have sworn he had heard, through the obnoxious wind, a rising and falling scale of musical notes. Strange, very strange.

The lights grew bright again, and as Charlie looked around, he noticed that nothing had been harmed. In fact, everything was just as fine, if not better, that before.

"Woah!" He exclaimed. There in front of him was a _house_, a full blown two story _house_! It was a deep red in colour and seemed very pretty.

Charlie gasped slightly and ducked behind the tree as the front door opened. He peeked out slightly to see a girl walk out. She had messy chestnut hair that waved at the end in a wild style of its own. Her eyes were naturally wide and chocolate coloured. She had what could only be described as glow-in-the-dark-green coloured braces with rubber bands in a triangular shape. Her shirt was a maroon colour and she was wearing a pair of blue jeans. On her head was a pair of disconnected black headphones, and sitting by her side was a large orange cat, looking out curiously.

"Oh Fatty," she said, "I have a feeling we're not in Connecticut anymore."

She furrowed her eyebrows, then laughed. "What a stupid thing to say, of _course_ we're not in Connecticut anymore. Oh! I might be dreaming!" She then plugged her nose with her fingers and, without opening her mouth, stood there for a few seconds in silence. "Ok, I'm not dreaming," she said after unplugging her nose. "Then where am I...?"

She looked around at all of the fantastical scenery. "Oh wow... it's gorgeous."

"'Scuse me," said a voice. She turned to see... oh no...

Charlie turned his head to see that Mr. Wonka was standing right next to her. Charlie scanned his eyes frantically, realizing for the first time that he had not in fact been standing next to him this entire time.

"I'd appreciate it if you kindly grabbed your house and skedaddled, little girl."

"You... I...," she seemed at loss for words. The cat next to her ran into the house in fear. "Useless cat," she muttered.

"Did you not here me? I said _scoot_."

"I... wait a minute, you...you're..."

Suddenly she screamed in delight, and kept screaming... and kept screaming...

"WILLY WONKA! I WAS JUST WRITING A FANFIC ABOUT YOU AND HERE YOU ARE I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I CAN'T-"

She leapt forward and hugged him tightly. Willy's face flushed.

"Uhh... eww... wait, you aren't a vermicious knid, are you?"

She looked up. "Huh? NO WAY! My name is Katherine. Call me Misty though, I like it much better, all though my profile name is Krisella, so maybe you should call me that considering I was just writing a fanfic........ EEEEEEEH! It's really you!!! AHHHH!!!!"

"Would you kindly unhinge yourself from my pancreas?"

"SURE!" She leapt back. "I... oh no! I lost the game again!"

At once there was a loud groan from what seemed like every direction. She looked around wide eyed. "What was that?"

"Why those were the Oompa Loompas of course."

At once, as if by cue, the Oompa Loompas all came out of their hiding places and circled around Misty. They began to sing an intricate song, complete with choreographed dance and everything. Charlie watched with admiration until they managed to lead her into another room. Silence followed.

"Hey Charlie?" Willy Wonka asked. Charlie jumped and turned to see Willy Wonka standing there, watching him with a look of amusement on his face.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm glad our life isn't a fanfic. Real life is much too fun!"

"Yes it is," Charlie said in agreement. "Yes it is."

They walked off into the distance. Charlie's scar hadn't prickled in years. All was well.

* * *

_END! Yes, that's right, it gets ridiculous at the end._

_a/n, I used the wikipedia definition for fanfics when Charlie was explaining FF to Willy, so please don't sue me!_

_W00t w00t this was fun!_

_Umm..... struggling to think of something memoriable here..... something that would make this the absolute best ending ever......_

_Umm.........._


End file.
